Missio
by lilithmace
Summary: Dominus orders, they obey. But how do they feel about this particular task? It will leave Melitta & Gannicus in a difficult position, challenged to remain friends after such a shared, intimate experience of one another. From: s2, e3 of S:GotA - "Missio"
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

This story fleshes out what was a particularly emotionally charged scene in and episode of a show that I had assumed was going to be a pure fun, gratuitously violent and satisfying guilty pleasure for me. It had me pondering what was going through the character's heads as they, um... ahem, ::cough-didit-cough::

It is my hope to continue the story between them, switching points of view, but deviating slightly from the next few episodes' plot lines in order to focus more on this pair.

Definitions:  
Ludus = Gladiator School  
Lanista = Gladiator School Owner  
Doctore = Head Trainer  
Dominus = Master  
Domina = Mistress

Melitta & Gannicus during their shared exhibitionism in S:GotA, S1E3: 'Missio'.

**Melitta POV**

From my place slightly behind and to the left of my Domina on the balcony overlooking the Ludus' yard, I could see the men practicing. Domina, Dominus, and Gaia were tempting our clearly tired visitor, Quintillius, with the sights and sounds of our Gladiators. I knew that much hung in the balance of power between Quintillius and Dominus but could effect the situation no further in my limited role. My place was always slightly behind and to the left of Domina – available for her every whim and frequently those of her honored guests.

Not that I would complain. What slave woman would? For that matter, what free woman would? My Domina was mostly pleasant, my Dominus never beat or mistreated me. The work I was required to do, nay - born into doing, was manageable and I had food to eat and a roof over my head. But most of all, I mused as I glanced down at the sands below, I was permitted to stay near Oenomaus, my beloved husband. Rare blessings indeed for a slave woman.

My Oenomaus. I allowed myself a moment of observation – risky when we had guests. Domina naturally insisted we be most diligent to the needs of our visitors while they were here but it was a rare woman indeed who could not look upon Oenomaus and find cause for a moment of scrutiny.

His tall black-as-night form glistened in the hot evening sun. How I love him, my serious thoughtful husband. My heart fluttered as my eyes took in his practice swings and motions. Not even a small part of him is wasteful. I remember, during his recovery from the terrifying fight with Theokoles, he strove for perfection of movement to avoid unnecessary delays in the healing process. His desire to rejoin his brothers in the ring and win enough coin to buy our freedom is matched only by my desire to see him alive, well, safe, and by my side. He swings his sword with such force it was a wonder he didn't cleave the arm from his opponent. _Who can he be fighting that withstands his unrelenting onslaught of frustration at his Dominus-dictated period of rest? _I ponder as I watch the men below.

Oh, of course. It is Gannicus – that ridiculous cur. The best friend of my husband and if I'm being honest with myself, a dear friend to me. I smile fondly, if somewhat wryly as he baits Oenomaus, teasing my husband to pursue him around the practice-dummy.

Gannicus is never serious. His gaiety, I must admit, is contagious. The newly titled Champion of the Ludus of Batiatus is ever pleased with himself. In Oenomaus' absence, he has made quite a name for himself. The big Celt giant moves with a certain grace and skill, I must admit. He'd have to, to be a worthy sparring partner for _my_ husband. He is light of skin, fair of hair, and his strength is clearly visible even from all the way up here. He is a natural crowd favorite. Always jovial, quick to spare a losing gladiator, easy to smile, to make light of the dangerous situation that we slaves find ourselves in. I watch the two of them fighting a moment more before my attention is abruptly brought back to Dominus.

As our honored guest leaves the portcullis in favor of the cool interior chambers near the pool, Dominus has caught up Gaia by her arm – gripping her tightly he curses at her for an unsuccessful attempt at maneuvering Quintillius into choosing from amongst his Gladiators for the opening of the city of Capua's newest arena. He covets one of the spots in the Primus, the most anticipated (and usually fought last) battle of the games.

Gaia narrows her eyes and glares back at him with no hint of appropriate docility. She may require more maintenance that we slaves are used to but I must admit that I admire her grit.

"Quintillius is a man of specific desires... brought forth by food and certain drink," she hisses under her breath, giving Dominus a scornful look, "have your man Gannicus well cleaned and oiled then bring him up for a _private _viewing upon the hour."

At this, a look of understanding breaks over both Dominus and Domina. Only half a heartbeat passes before I, too, comprehend what she suggests. I'm horrified beyond belief. How can this be a way to secure the honor of the House of Batiatus? Can they really mean for Gannicus to-

My thoughts are interrupted by the signal from Dominus which means in no uncertain terms that I am to go collect Gannicus for whatever games they have decided he's to play this night. Disgust and dread crawl their way through my heart. My friend, and the brother of my husband should not be so used. No Champion of Capua, beloved and revered as he, deserves such treatment. I look to Domina to put an end to this request but summon him I must, for Domina is nodding in agreement with her husband.

Of course it must be me sent to summon him. This means I'll be the one to lead him to his shame. My heart is heavy as I walk to the gates separating the Ludus from the main house. I beckon one of the guards and relay the instructions. I am to wait by the gate in order to take him to the bath house. I hear his laugh and that of my husband, in harmony with one another until the terse:

"Gannicus! You are summoned," is shouted by the unpleasant guard.

Gannicus appears, grinning as usual and is let out of the confines of his enslavement. I can't look at his face. I know I will give away what Dominus and Gaia have planned for him if I do. Instead I turn and briskly walk towards the baths.

"What in interesting turn – usually I am rewarded with wine and women when I succeed in pleasing the master of the house – what must I have done to be forced to bathe, I wonder?" he jokes as we walk. I hear his care-free chuckle just behind me.

"Gannicus, you are ever pleased with yourself. Tonight is a night to please others," I manage choke out before we reach the bath house. I slip into the shadows before he can reply and the servants there begin the process of disrobing him.

I am no blushing maiden but tonight I can't look upon him at his bath. I take a place in the hall outside the chamber. My heart grows heavier still as I think for what purpose this luxury is afforded. Gannicus succumbs to the servants efforts. None of them make any conversation, and after a few failed attempts to tease smiles from them, Gannicus gives up and allows them to complete their tasks with a short: "Well, Jupiter's cock! You are all small of tongue tonight!"

When he is done he finds me sitting stiffly on the stone outside. I take in his appearance slowly. His light hair has been half-braided so that it falls away from his face and down to his broad shoulders. His arms, unadorned by their typical leather armor fall gracefully at his side. His broad, flat chest tapers smoothly into a well-muscled stomach; the indentations just above his hips and the towel the servants left to cover him are clearly visible. He is left without armor, clothing, or shoes. His body has been washed and then rubbed with scented oils. In the fashion of most of the Gladiator Brotherhood, the hair on his chest has been removed to better display the iron shape of his strength. His legs, like the sturdy trunk of a tree support his frame and allow for his ground-eating stride. He is an impressive sight to behold. Though I've never thought to look at him through the eyes of a woman not happily married, even I can admit that he is beautiful. None of this brings me joy this evening, though he grins at me and offers a hand to help me from my seat. I take it and he lifts me to my feet. I'm unable to utter a word as he looks questioningly at my face.

"Come," I manage to mutter.

"Melitta – what is the matter with you? You are not arguing with Oenomaus? I pray to the gods not, for I can't stand to see the two of you at odds and I despise being caught in the middle! What's he done now, hm?" he tilts my chin up with a curved forefinger from where it has fallen to my chest so that I face him once more. "No, don't tell me – it is always better this way. I must remain-"

"Gannicus, we do not fight!" I interrupt him quickly and tilt my chin out of his grasp before he's a better friend to me than I deserve. I should be warning him. I should shout it to him so that he can... what? And what exactly to tell him?

He stands a pace back at my outburst, his face surprised. I am surprised at myself. I don't recall ever having raised my voice to any of the Gladiators, much less our Champion. Why would I shout at him when all he's ever done is show me kindness?

"Come," I repeat more quietly as I turn to lead him, "Dominus is waiting."

He falls into step behind me and I can feel him at my back. I can almost hear his questions at my behavior racing through his mind. Nothing to be done now, we have arrived at the hall and Dominus is pacing in the antechamber. Beyond him, I can hear the sounds of merriment, Gaia's laugh, wine being poured into waiting cups, and Domina's pleasant conversation. I slip around the men to wait by the curtains but their words can clearly be heard since I remain on this side of them.

"Finally! The Gods themselves take less time to answer the prayers of Hades!" Dominus utters, exasperated. "Quintillius awaits! He holds the key to the Primus!" he grips Gannicus' shoulder, shaking the man as best he can though Gannicus is taller by a hand and a half at least.

"Gannicus, pleasing this man must now become your sole fucking purpose," he begins to head to the interior chamber with Gannicus walking behind him.

Confusion mounts. "Please him? In what manner-" Gannicus begins to ask.

"I have had my fill of being questioned by slaves!" Dominus rounds on Gannicus, bringing him up short. "If he wishes you to suck his cock dry, you will savor every drop, for the honor of the House of Batiatus and the chance to fight in the Primus! Are we of a singular mind!"

I can't look away. I can see his face... I can see the moment understanding breaks over his countenance. His mouth tightens, his eyes dart to the ground as his jaw hardens and his fists clench. He glances over his master's shoulder at the rooms concealed by the curtain I stand ready to open, then back to Dominus's chin then down at the floor as the realization of the order takes hold.

"Dominus." he utters in assent, his voice low. He sounds broken to me. When he raises his eyes, they meet mine. I can't imagine how I look to him but I try to offer him some illusion of pride and I glance quickly down at the floor, lowering my head in deference to him. It is the meanest of gestures, but it is all I have to give him. I open the curtain and Dominus walks in, announcing Gannicus to Quintillius, Gaia and Domina. Their Champion enters the chamber and I don't raise my eyes until the gauzy curtains have dropped behind his rigid form.

I am at a loss until Domina calls from the other side of the curtain for more wine. That is my duty this night. I must 'keep the cups full' but I'm honestly not certain I can go to her. Somehow, I muster the strength and lift both the wine jug and the curtain and enter the chamber.

**TBC... Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Ahem, attention!: lemons ahoy, folks; you've been warned... I'm happy to say this is my first written lemon – ever. That said, I encourage reviews (from you guys, that is – god help me if my friends and family find this, ha ha!) Thanks again for checking out my little brain child. Enjoy!

**Melitta POV**

As I pour, Quintillius circles. Like a sly wolf, he slowly walks around Gannicus as he stands rigidly in the center of the chamber. I can see what it is costing him to remain docile; perhaps because I know him, or perhaps its obvious to everyone and that is what they find so appealing. Caging the beast... despicable.

Despite what is about to happen, it is a lovely chamber, one of my favorites in this place. Tonight, the light curtains are drawn together and gently billowing in the warm breeze coming in from the balcony. The reclining couches are placed for comfortable conversation, Gaia on one, Dominus & Domina on the other, with plenty of candles to complement the skin tone and shed a golden hue on everything. The plentiful rugs cushion my feet as I walk to our guest to fill his cups then take my place by one of the pillars.

"You are quite the lanista, Batiatus. I've never been so applied to towards aid of sale..." murmurs Quintillius as he observes Gannicus' entrance to the chamber with greedy eyes. Gaia simpers with praise of the Dominus and Domina to further soothe the desires of our guest as Gannicus finds a place slightly above and past everyone upon which to set his gaze.

Quintillius lets his hands wander around the chest and shoulders of my friend. He never moves, never makes any sign that he is restraining himself but I can see it. Can they not? But no. For Batiatus is singing his praises and feats in the arena as precious Quintillius strokes his torso.

"I'm not impressed," murmurs Quintillius gazing on Gannicus' face, "by inflated tales. My interests are grounded in what I can see... what I can _touch_..."

I watch the Champions face as the revolting hands steal their way down his abdomen, slip underneath his towel and grope at his genitals in the rudest of fashions. He blinks rapidly, attempting to hide his absolute disgust with the man. His nostrils flare and his mouth tightens almost imperceptibly. He must try so hard to please his Dominus, as must we all. He submits himself to this base treatment with no word, no movement. It would only serve to further excite. I can't watch. My gaze drops to the ground and I find a spot to rest it on near the base of the pillar next to me.

"Now, that is... impressive..." breathes Quntillius into his ear, "Are you a skilled with its use as you are with a sword?"

Forced to respond in some way, Gannicus looks to his master who gives him a hard glare before he glances at me and returns his eyes to the place the previously held before nodding once, harshly at the inappropriate inquiry.

"I would have demonstration!"

"Of course, the man is yours!" answers Dominus. "We will lend privacy." He makes move to escort Domina and Gaia from the chamber and I can't think what to do. But Quintillius laughs at Dominus' assumption.

"You mistake intent! No – I've had too much wine and other pleasures for such rough exertion. No, I would prefer a feast of the eyes!" He looks around the room letting his gaze alight on the various slaves therein and to my surprise, it lands on myself. "Have him fuck this one," he says jovially as he points to me, "and I shall watch!"

In my shock at being so addressed my head half shakes before I catch myself and look to Domina for intervention or explanation of my situation. She is a good mistress and I sometimes consider her a friend. She begins "Apologies..."

"What for? Is she not a slave?"

"She is. And will do as commanded," interjects Dominus quickly and firmly. He nods at me and re-seats himself on the couch next to Domina.

I look to Gannicus who is gazing at me in utter shock. I know my mouth falls open and my brows draws together as I comprehend the next hour's activities being forced on us both. How can this have come to be?

Defying Dominus is not an option, nor, would I have thought, was betraying my husband. Yet here we stand. I look one last time, pleadingly, at Domina but she cannot meet my eye for more than a moment and makes a motion to urge me between the couches onto the rugs where Gannicus already stands.

I swallow my outrage, it would serve no purpose. I am a vassal. I have no say in what happens to me. I take my place before Gannicus and slowly look up from the ground to his face. I can't stop my eyes from filling with tears at my betrayal and the moment he meets my eyes again, I can see what this is doing to him. His relief that he will not be forced on that disgusting pig Quintillius is cut sharply by the backhanded act, the very betrayal of a brother, he is now being ordered to perform. He looks intently at me, as if asking, _"What should I do?"_

I know him. If I gave indication, he'd tear the occupants of this chamber to shreds. He looks as though he's half way to just such a decision on his own so I know I must answer his unspoken question with haste. He, for all his jokes and loose women and wine, is an honorable man. It is why he and Oenamaus are such friends. I can't allow him to jeopardize his life, mine and those of the other slaves in this Ludus so I give the slightest nod while holding his gaze.

"Remove her dress," orders the guest.

My lip quivers slightly and I see the resignation settle over Gannicus' face. His hands move slowly to my long black hair, tumbling over the knot of my slave garb on one shoulder, and they gently brush it back. He easily unties my dress and slides it down to my waist, then lets it fall to my feet. His jaw is set and his eyes seem to beg for my pardon. I bite back my tears – they will not help us. He must do this and do it quickly so that we can begin to forget it ever happened.

I'm sure that hateful man is still uttering orders which Gannicus must be heeding, but his vile voice blessedly fades into the background for me as I decide that, to get though this, I must focus solely on Gannicus. I must remember that he is my only friend here and that he would not hurt me if it was his choice.

He touches me for the first time to take my hands in his and lift them, guiding me a step away from my discarded garb. I am utterly without clothing in the chamber and while I am not a modest woman by any means, I still feel the flush of embarrassment as I feel eyes on me. I remember to focus on Gannicus who has not dropped his gaze below my own eyes and for that I find him the most respectful of men.

When we are in the center of the room, his hands move to his own bath towel and remove it. I pay him the same respect and keep my eyes on his face. More is said in our looks than any conversation we've ever held.

_I'm sorry..._

_I know, its not your fault..._

_Forgive me, Melitta, forgive me._

At the sound of another terse "request", I feel his hands come to rest gently on my shoulders, right next to my neck. Though I shudder, he is warm. Still moving slowly, he slides his hands down my chest, over my heart until they caress my breasts. Though he touches me reverently, my breathing quickens as does his. I pray that it is terror that pebbles the flesh beneath his rough hands but I fear it is not. My body begins to betray me already. His thumb rubs a soothing circular motion across a peak and he holds his breath for a moment before he slips his free hand around my ribcage and draws me to him.

Instinct urges and I lift my arms to his shoulders. I bury my hands in his hair, then let them grip his neck, momentarily grateful for something so strong to cling to. I'm feeling faint already and he's barely touched me. Our cheeks press together as though in a casual embrace, but there is nothing casual about this gesture. He's trying to show me how he values me before he's forced to dishonor me at an order. I can feel the scruff of his chin against me as he tucks his head down into the cradle at my neck and shoulder.

Suddenly I'm holding on to him so tightly, wishing that everyone was gone and this was all over and done with. My heart is beating quickly against his carved chest and the muscles in his arms enclose me securely as he wraps them around my waist. I feel so small against him, all of him. He lets out a quick exhale into the hair at the base of my neck and I gasp just a little when I hear yet another order from the couches. I pull back slightly but, following direction, his hands at my waist travel lower still until his palm slips over my backside to press me to him. I inhale sharply and my eyes widen at the jump I feel from his rapidly hardening loins at this action. I look at him but he's frozen, his eyes are cast downwards, now, for the first time, taking in the view of my naked body against his own.

There are no secrets when a man becomes roused by a woman's form. Mine has done so to him and he's ashamed of his natural response. He won't meet my gaze. But this was inevitable. I move my hand from his shoulder to his cheek, stroking the roughness there until he looks at me. I give him a rueful glance but I hope it conveys what I mean to say.

"_Its okay... I know you must."_

He turns us so that his broad back prevents me from seeing the cruel man who put us in this situation, thoughtful even now, and slowly he lowers us to our knees. I close my eyes to keep from seeing anyone as his arm moves to support my shoulders. He gently, as though I were made of the thinnest terra cotta, lays me back on the rugs. His hand guides my head to the floor, makes sure it rests comfortably before he settles himself between my bent legs, his torso braced above mine by his unbent arms.

I'm nearly panicking now. He sees this and risks whispering, "Melitta, I-" but I can't let him finish with these people watching our every move.

"See it done," I whisper with as much conviction as I can muster.

His head drops in defeat. Finally, it has come to this; no more delaying this moment. His hand meets my hip, his course fingertips ghosting over my flank and leaving dimpled flesh in their wake. Slowly, it slips between my thighs, he parts my curls with his fingers and slides two against my innermost flesh, checking quickly to see that I am as ready as I can be for him. I smother a sob in my throat and in that instant something shifts in my mood, my heart. I feel his fingers touch me and, to my shame, I begin to respond.

I feel his hand move from me and to grasp himself, guiding so that he is aligned properly. My hips tilt to accommodate him without my instruction. I can feel my body's moisture preparing for him. What can I do? If I don't blame him for his natural response, can I blame myself for my own?

I feel the tip of him against me and I close my eyes as his again search my face. He's propped above me, his hands flat against the rug on either side of my head. I'm lying beneath him, my arms useless by my sides, awaiting further instruction but I can't form a clear thought of what I should do at all let alone with them. When he receives no further word or glance from me, he pushes his hips forward, slowly inching forward into me.

I hold my breath. Oh Gods, he's huge. His fit is tight and I feel myself shifting to accommodate his length within. He presses forward; my head naturally tilts back and my lips drop open as his hips meet mine. We are joined; we are as one. He stills and my eyes flutter open - I see the look on his face as he takes me.

His breathing is beginning to match mine and he narrows his sharp eyes in concentration. He's holding back and it is costing him. I've heard the other slave girls talk after he's rewarded for a successful fight by having one sent to his chamber. He's a vigorous lover, a satisfying one, yet for me – he holds himself still at first.

Then, slowly at first, watching my face all the while, he begins to move. He pulls from my depths only to push forward again. My breath leaves me in a quick gust as he returns, his hipbones share against my soft skin. I'm not unfamiliar with the rhythm of lovemaking but he's doing his best to ensure I'm not harmed. I love him for this even as his hips gradually quicken their pace. He thinks to have this over with so that we're shamed for only a short time. I can't find fault with his reasoning and I begin to move with him.

My chest heaves in little gasps or sobs of breath each time he enters me. The small sounds I make are met with low exhales of his own. As our pace increases, so does my pleasure, to my utter disgrace. I don't realize until I touch him that my hands have crept around his waist and are now clutching his back, as though I could keep him inside of me. He grunts when he feels my palms against him.

I'm lost. I'm utterly lost to the sensation of him sliding in and out of my body. I never knew I could experience these feelings in such a circumstance. There is no help for it, I feel my pleasure mounting. I know now he's going to give me the ultimate pleasure, despite both our wills. I don't fight it. I give myself over to Gannicus, sliding my hands down before digging my nails into the flesh of his back side.

He groans loudly at my encouragement and drops his head to my neck, breathing heavily through his mouth. He lowers himself further, resting on one forearm, slid quickly beneath my head, as he puts the other arm to good use. His hand tilts my hips as he slides it beneath me to mirror the grip I have on him.

At this adjustment, I cry out and arch into him, throwing my head back and exposing my throat to the champion. He reaches new depths within me even as the base of his cock teases the flesh around my core until I am near a frenzy.

He's breathing harshly now with every deep thrust. His open mouth meets my throat, not quite kissing – it feels like a prayer for mercy, cried out against my skin. My eyes are shut tightly as I feel every inch of him against me. I dip my chin and the planes of his face slide against mine, so close, until our foreheads meet. His hips and mine work in tandem, driving us higher and higher to the peak of pleasure.

I'm so close to losing control and I can't help it, I have to see him in this moment. I open my eyes and take in his furrowed brow, his open mouth, the slight flinches that flutter across his face every time he thrusts into me. His hand grips me and pulls me tighter into his hips and that's all it takes.

All of my womanly muscles clench around him suddenly. I cry out loudly as I come, my neck arching backwards over his forearm as my eyes shut once more in total pleasure. It rolls over me in wave after wave of unbelievable sensation as his motions become irregular and sharp. The tightness in the pit of my stomach, pressed so tightly to his, relaxes with the pinnacle he's brought me to. Suddenly and with a final thrust, he too cries out and throws his head back, his face contorting with the same agony of pleasure I've just experienced. He empties his seed while my hands remain on him to ensure that his hips remain tightly pressed to mine.

Slowly, the tightness relaxes and his head tilts down to rest against my shoulder. He regains his breath as I stroke his body with my eyes closed, chest heaving against his. Do I imagine it or did he place a nearly imperceptible kiss to my throat? It is no matter, it is finished. We have done the task they laid out before us. My deepest shame is that I did not despise the act with Gannicus, my friend and Champion.

**Hope you enjoyed... ;-)**


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